


(Title TBA Later) Clockwork Series

by TRANScendtheBInary



Category: Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Chapter 2 Tags:, Fantasy, Gen, Minor Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Original Universe, Referenced Genocide, SciFi and Fantasy, Science Fiction, Unreliable Narrator, blood mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-16 21:44:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5842072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TRANScendtheBInary/pseuds/TRANScendtheBInary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Human ambition is the driving force behind every tragic event in history. </p><p>A millennium ago, a catastrophic event destroyed most of the known world, leaving behind only desert sands.  Humanity was able to push back the desert and created Tirrebais, a paradise surrounded by death.  After centuries of chaos, a group of individuals united Tirrebais under one government, The Humanitarian Democratic Republic.  Yet all is not what it seems.  Recent food shortages, water pollution, and increased desertification have left the populace fearful.  Out of this fear, rumors begin to rise of a key to Salvation and a way to reset time...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Prologue: Chime the Hour

_` "A simple world will be seen in black and white, but a world of brilliant hues brings danger.”` _

` **_~Scripture of Sin_ s~** `

* * *

 

        The locals go about their daily routine, morning to evening the rhythm of life goes on.  The sun is shining, the torrid desert air bears down on the sweating populace below.  A solider from the Humanitarian Democratic Republic stands guard at the town square, his expression grim as the heavy armor slowly roasts him alive.  Brightly colored stalls with owners decked in rags bear trinkets of all shapes and sizes.  Mothers with unruly children begin their weekly shopping, as fathers gather around the fountain to discuss current events.  Here everyone is equal, there is no rank nor class, as they all wish to return home prosperous.  Artisans and farmers call out to the passerby, hoping to draw in a few purchases.

***

  _Limited edition rarer than rare books from before._

_Perhaps a diamond necklace for the lady?_

_Apples, Pears and Plums get them now while they’re still ripe!_

***  

        A child dressed in weathered robes stands still on the street corner. Burnt skin on bones holding out a hand for something, anything. Broken clock parts lay on oil cloth, nothing spectacular yet already a crowd has formed.

“A sight for sore eyes.”

        A finely manicured hand reaches out for a pile of springs.  Words are spoken about, but never directly to the dirty urchin.  Someone cries out as their newly acquired screws are knocked out of their gloved hands.  People continue to crowd about the makeshift store.  They will always gathers, whether rain or sun, cold or hot.  They will never admit dependence on such a filthy young child.

“Poor thing.  Abandoned by its parents, so skinny too.”  

        A group of women come to gossip, their words are pointless.  After all, why should they care, they live happily with their husbands and children.  

"They get younger every year, someone should do something about these imps!"  

        Poor themselves, yet happy to play pretend at wealth.  Such a petty existence they lead, yet no one questions them.

“Hush don’t look in their eyes, they’ll curse you!”  

        Children covered in dust squeeze through the crowd to get a better look.  A day of knowledge has ended, their mothers will soon call them in for dinnertime. Excited they rush forwards to get a peek, wondering why the adults around them look on in disdain at the newcomer. This emaciated child is mysterious, the rumors questionable, their curiosity is inevitable.

***

        Ignorance is bliss, why go with the painful truth when a reassuring lie is presented.  This system is corrupted, all the power is held in _THEIR_ hands, their lies are the people's truths.

 

* * *

  **Food supplies have started to decline.**

_Not a problem, the rebels have stolen it, we have everything under control._

**Prices for metal go up.**

_Not a problem, the rebels are looking for weapon supplies, we have everything under control._

**Water has become polluted, no longer usable.**

_Not a problem, the rebels are poisoning it, we have everything under control._

* * *

 ***

        No one notices the sudden increase of Scavengers, looking for the key to salvation among the desolate sands. The shanty towns sprouting up where grand villas used to stand, the poverty levels have spiked. The rotting shapes they claim are fruit, the wealthy Crest members sit in their palaces eating grapes off the vine. Yet nothing changes, the world spins on.

        The child has sold their last cog and gear; the crowd dissipates. It packs up a tattered satchel and disappears into the early evening dust, leaving only a memory behind.  Tomorrow will be the same, or perhaps a new child will appear, or maybe a bent over crone with a bottle of diamond dust will shuffle around the town square.  Whatever may happen, only shades of grey will be seen, a boring existence indeed.

        As the last hour is chimed, the silence keeps watch with hidden eyes.

_To be continued..._

* * *

  _`"Keep watch on your ambitions, don't stray to far from the path or you may find yourself in a dark existence."`_

_` **~Scripture of Sins~** ` _


	2. Rusted Gears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-descriptive character death. I don't go into detail. Also there is some bloodshed but it's also minor. There is referenced genocide as well.

_` This is an announcement. We of the Humanitarian Democratic Republic are here to warn you of the oncoming threat. A threat so grave, so disastrous, that there remains only one options. We must purge our sacred lands of these heretics. It is with our deepest regrets that we declare war on the Arisen people. No more lies will pollute the minds of our children. So come to arms every man, father, and son! Watch as this day will define humanity, as this day will lead us to salvation!`_

` **~ The Sanguine Wars, A History ~**`

 

* * *

         The horizon is aflame.

        An empty clang echoes across the vast cavern. The first rays of sunlight peek through casting long deformed shadows across dusty floors.

        Lone figures make their way through the mounds of trash. Broken bits of metal and old clothes, all thrown into massive dump. Here Scavengers rule.

        “Take piles 5-27, ignore all non-fabric items!” One mass splits off from the main body and heads off.

        Each figure begins to sort through the trash, picking up a straw hat here and a broken gear there. Bodies covered in thick cloaks, hoods casting shadows. Each pulls out a massive sack, to store the goods found that day.

        “Alpha9, don’t forget to show ‘em the routes.” They have no appointed leader. However experience speaks louder than words. Experience can keep you alive or it can kill you in an instant.

        “Where do you want me to go?”

        “Take piles 2-4, ignore all non-metals.” No one knows where exactly the Scavengers came from. They are the rejects, the unwanted outcasts of society. Their only job? To find valuable resources to provide the populace. Everyone likes to pretend that there’s no real problem, yet the Scavengers know. Of course people who dedicate their time to rummaging through piles of trash would pick up on those sorts of things.

        “Alright newbies, here’s how things work around these parts.” One of the figures removes his cloak facing the crowd. “I’m Alpha9, I am your best friend or your worst enemy. Either way you’ll be following me.” The crowd shifts nervously. It’s not uncommon for new Scavengers to go missing, this kind of life isn’t for everyone and enemies are often made.

        It used to be that Scavengers were adults out on their luck, or people who had upset the government in some way. Now, kids outnumbered adults 3:1, teens with younger siblings forming rouge packs of their own. It wasn’t unusual for one of the adult Scavengers to find an abandoned child or two and raise them Civilians didn’t exactly live in the best conditions, having to resort to working in Smog City or for the Nobles. Why parents would think that giving up their child to slave away sorting through trash and on occasion leaving Tirrebais for the Sand Wastes was the better choice is beyond reason. If asked, any of the aged Scavengers would happily go and work in a factory rather than live on food scraps sleeping on rags.

        “I suppose everyone here knows their basic history, so I don’t have to explain what we do for a living do I?” Children in Tirrebais, even those who live in Smog City, all attend school until the age of 18. Although, most families will lie about their child’s age in order to have them get a job sooner to help pay for the family.

        “When do we eat?”

        “You don't.” Outrage, one of the steps of some sort of reaction, although the importance is lost to Alpha9. “If you get paid then perhaps you'll eat.” Fights often break out back at HQ over food.

        Runaways most likely. Most of the kids have sooty faces and callouses on their fingers. Clearly used to working with heavily machinery, hardened against the cruel reality they were forced to live in.

        “No more questions? Good. Get a move on. All metal is worth something. Remember that. Rust or damage matters not. Metal is a precious resource so don't leave a single scrap behind!”

        Metal supplies have been on the decline since the Sanguine Wars. Of course rebellion was inevitable, what with the massive gap in wealth, power and resources between the Nobles and the Civilians. Every action has consequences.

        “Did you hear that the Great Leader has the leaders of the Rebellion imprisoned?!” Children are excellent at telling stories.

        “Ma'am once said that the rebels want to destroy Tirrebais.” Of course if they were actually that strong Tirrebais would've fallen a long time ago.

        “Apparently they have a child, and it's gone missing!” Children go missing all the time, usually kidnapped and sold off as slaves. It's just another job, another way to make money.

        “Alpha9 do you think they'll make it this time round?” Overlooking the newcomers from atop the pile, he turns to his companion.

        “You underestimate how strong humans can be Maria.” His companion, a girl with bleached blonde hair and a faced marred by scars, scowls.

        “You imply that I'm not human?” Alpha9 runs a gloved hand over her face.

        “You are more human than most. It's a shame. You would've been known as an exotic beauty.” Maria stiffens, “Are you sure you don't remember?” A sharp shake of the head. “Pity. Well I stand by my promises.”

        “You mean your empty promise of bringing back my supposed memories? Or the promise that I'll stop wanting you around? Or maybe the promise-”

        “Shh. I heard something.” Alpha9 lifts his head and stares upwards towards the ceiling.

        A low rumbling begins to sound, sand starts to pour down onto the piles below.

        “A CAVE IN EVERYONE MOVE!!! DROP EVERYTHING HEAD FOR THE EXITS!” Shouts of alarm ring across the cavern. Panic and fear tighten their grip.

        Someone falls, a quick hand grabs them and takes off running.

 

* * *

         Crash! The ceiling has caved in, shards of metal fly out cutting into their flesh.

        Slowly, groaning piles begin to slide forwards, a massive wave of trash falling fast onto the unfortunate people below.

        WHOOSH! BANG! CRASH!

        Then silence. Dust begins to settle on the chaos below.

 

* * *

        A lone figure emerges, stumbling they grip their arm. They are the only survivor. Everyone else is buried beneath, in a tomb of sand and metal.

        “AL-ALPHA? ALPHA9! MAJZ? ARCHANE? SOMEONE? ANYONE?! PLEASE… Please… please…” The figure falls to the ground shoulders shaking as tears begin to stream leaving dirty trails across their face. They grasp their hand to their chest.

_Guess I couldn't keep my promise after all._

        Blood drips down, the sand slowly becoming stained red.

_Take this. Don't forget that humans don't run on cogs and gears! NOW RUN!_

        Shaking the hand opens, inside is a single rusted gear stained with blood.

 

* * *

  _`Here the Rebels made their base, in the lone Arisen village of Seng Mein. However all was not peaceful, for soon war came killing all Arisen people. For it is a grave offense to house anyone associated with the Rebellion, an offense punishable by death. In the famous broadcast the Humanitarian Democratic Republic sent out a call to arms. Captain Aline of the Rebellion was vanquished, as was the poor village of Seng Mein. Yet stories say that a single child was spared although there are no sources to support this claim and…`_

`**~The Sanguine Wars, A History~**`

_...page unable to be recreated due to severe burns and lacerations._


End file.
